Leaving You Breathless
by spittlepig
Summary: The future isn't what anyone expected...
1. Bullet Proof But Still Bleeding

TITLE: Leaving You Breathless  
AUTHOR: Ananova Crowe  
SUMMARY: The future isn't what anyone expected...  
SHIPPER: Logan and Marie (for better or for worse, you decide...)  
DEDICATED TO: Khaki. for everything she'll always be to me...  
  
Do you know what true pain feels like? It's indescribable. The way it tears at your gut, trying to rip your heart out through your ribcage while it's still beating. It's strange the way a sudden wave of nausea comes over you and you can do nothing but drop to your knees and lament.   
  
You pray that someone will come along and kill you, or that you're heart will suddenly explode and send shrapnel to pierce everything inside of you, all because of how much it hurts. But the worse fact is that - if you don't have the pleasure of dying - you are eternally haunted by the fact that you know everything exactly the way it was.  
  
The year, the month, the day, the time, the hour, the minute, the second, who was around you, what was around you, where you were, what you were thinking, how you ached, how you couldn't breathe, how you couldn't move, but especially what made you that way.  
  
I thought watching him walk out the door without even a backward glance was hard. The way my heart constricted and my breath became short. The way a cold chill rolled across me and a little voice whispered in my ear. "…He's not coming back…"   
  
"You're wrong!" I had screamed out to no one, clamping my hands over my ears and running as fast as I possibly could back up the stairs, avoiding everyone. I knew he would come back, he had said it to me, looking me straight in the eye, he told me he would be back. I made myself believe he would come back.  
  
Oh, how I wish I would have been wrong.  
  
I had thought that watching him walk out that front door was painful.  
  
But watching him come back was even harder.  
  
* * * * *  
  
I had gotten the news of his return on December 16, 2003. Three years after he had first walked out that door. But the strange part about it, was that I hadn't gotten the information from one of the adults. Neither Jean, Scott, Ororo, nor Professor Xavier had bothered to even tell me, the fact of the matter was that the information came from two girls talking behind me in class.  
  
Apparently, the side-effects from Logan touching me and saving my life while I was hooked up to Magneto's twisted machine in the torch of the Statue Of Liberty, had actually enhanced my hearing, by which I was able to hear exactly what they were saying, even though they were barely whispering.  
  
"You know the big, hairy guy with claws? The one who left a while ago?" One girl said in a whisper, moving closer to her friend that was sitting beside her.   
  
I had froze immediately, my body going rigid, but I didn't turn around, because there was a certain caution in her voice that made it seem that she would go silent if I looked back. So I sat there, forgetting all about the lesson, and listened as intently as I could.  
  
"Yeah?" Her friend had asked, her voice was unmistakable, it came from the girl with the bushy hair and weird eyes.  
  
"There's a rumor going around that he's back. They brought him in yesterday." The original girl whispered settling back into her seat before the teacher would notice.  
  
'Brought him in?' I had thought to myself, completely perplexed at the way she had said it.   
  
I strained to listen as their conversation went on.  
  
"So?" The bushy haired girl asked under her breath, tapping her pencil against the desk to try and cover her words.  
  
"They say he's-" But I wasn't able to hear that last part, because Miss Ororo's voice had broken into my head and covered it up.  
  
"Rogue? Rogue?" I had suddenly realized that everyone in the class was staring at me and suddenly felt my cheeks flush bright red.  
  
"Huh? What?" I had said, hunkering down in my chair in pure embarrassment.  
  
"Are you alright?"   
  
"Yeah, I'm fine…" I had tried to cover for myself. "I was just thinking…"   
  
"About Joan of Arc's leadership over the French Army?" Miss Ororo had asked, surprisingly trying to cover for me as well.  
  
"Uh…sure…" I had felt like a fool. A small laughter had rolled over the classroom, but was suddenly silenced when Miss Ororo gave them the eye.  
  
"You look a little pale, perhaps you would like to get a drink of water…" Miss Ororo had mentioned.  
  
"Yes, thank you." I had stood and walked towards the door with my head hanging, not wanting to look at anyone as I heard Miss Ororo continue with her lesson, before I shut the door behind me.  
  
I had let out a deep breath and leaned back against the door, the embarrassment flooding out through my feet as I waited for it to leave. Then the conversation had come floating back into my head, filling my mind.  
  
'Logan was back…yesterday…' It didn't seem right, surely someone would have told me. Even Logan would have come looking for me, and even if not for me, then for his dog tags. Something was wrong, and I had been determined to find out what it was.  
  
Wasting no time, I took off in the direction of the kitchen, walking past the drinking fountain with not even a glance. My mind had rolled over the thought of Logan's return until I reached the kitchen. Looking in, I found no one, just as part of me had suspected.   
  
So I continued my search, eventually finding Scott sitting on the couch in the lounge, drinking a bottle of water. He was in a gray tee shirt and jeans, his sunglasses shining dully in the bright light of the day that streamed in through the windows and the foyer.  
  
I had walked straight in, not breaking stride, even as he jumped in astonishment of seeing me.   
  
"Rogue? What are you doing here?" He had said, his voice faltering oddly. "Aren't you suppose to be in class?"  
  
But I hadn't heard him.  
  
"Is it true?" I had asked, stopping right in front of him with my hands clenched in fists at my side.  
  
"Is what true?" He demurred.  
  
"Don't give me that shit." I had growled, a piece of Logan suddenly floating into my mouth.  
  
Scott's eyebrows furrowed at my unexpected curtness.  
  
"How come no one bothered to tell me?"  
  
"Rogue, what are you talking about?" Scott had seemed too puzzled for his own good.  
  
"Where is he? Where's Logan?" I fumed, my patience becoming short.  
  
Scott fell awkwardly silent.  
  
"He's here." I sniffed the air, smelling the subtle smell of Logan. "Where is he? I want to see him-" I began, but Scott stuck up his hand.  
  
"Rogue…" He began, but suddenly fell short.  
  
"What?" I had asked, raising an eyebrow at his behavior. "What is it? What's wrong?"  
  
Scott only shook his head.  
  
"No." I stated, forcing myself not to believe. "There's something wrong. Tell me. Tell me what it is. I want to see him. Where is he?"  
  
"Rogue, you can't-" But I had cut him off, and he stood up from the couch.  
  
"Fuck that!" I had suddenly screamed, sniffing the air one more time to confirm my thought before I tore off out of the room, heading towards the elevator.   
  
Why was everyone keeping him from me?  
  
I could hear him chase after me, calling out my name as I ran blindly. I turned the corner and stepped into the elevator, frantically pushing the down button as I heard Scott's voice and footfalls close in.  
  
Then, at the last possible second, the doors had hissed closed on his face as I began going down, finally going to figure out what the hell was going on.  
  
It had seemed too long to reach the basement, precious seconds of my life completely wasted on that stupid elevator. I began to shove myself out before the doors even had a chance to open fully and I immediately turned in the direction of the Med Lab.  
  
The smell of Logan was strong now, wafting into my nose and tingling along my brain as I took off running down the hall, as fast as my legs would carry me.   
  
I had been close. So damn close that I could've touched the doors if I had wanted to, but suddenly something heavy had plowed into my back and wrestled me to the ground. Scott was on top of me, trying to keep me from getting up.  
  
"No!" I had screamed, tears beginning to burn forward in my eyes. "Let go of me! Let go! I have to see him! Let me go!"   
  
"Stop it, Rogue." Scott had said back, his voice surprisingly calm as he easily pinned me to the ground without touching my skin. He had his knees pinning my thighs and his ankles keeping mine locked to the ground. He had trapped my hands above my head, locking my wrists with only his fingers.  
  
"Scott god dammit! Let me up!" I screamed continuously, trying to squirm away from him in complete vain. "I have to see him! Don't you see? Let go of me! Why won't you let me see him?!"  
  
Tears streamed down my temples as I fought to get him off me, the more I moved, the more it hurt, and the more I fought against him. His strong fingers chafed my wrists and his knees brought a stabbing pain to my thighs, bone grinding against bone.  
  
"You can't see him Rogue." He whispered as my energy began to suffer, my movements becoming less frantic. My breath had become short due to my screaming and crying and it took an effort to breathe, until the air didn't seem to go past my teeth.  
  
"Please! I NEED to see him! You don't understand! Why are you keeping me away from him?!" I still struggled though, my straining causing my throat to nearly collapse around itself to a point where I couldn't even make out the words I was saying.  
  
"Rogue please," Scott lowered his head against my shoulder, his lips brushing past my ear as he said the two most horrible words that I have ever heard in my entire life.  
  
"He's dead."   



	2. When Legends Fall

It's strange how just a breath of air can make someone break down into a crying, screaming, pitiful mass of muscle, bone, flesh, and tears. The way it feels like you've just lost control of the world around you and how you feel like you'll never get your life back.  
  
I must've sat in Scott's arms bawling my eyes out for at least two hours, just sitting there while he held me and I screamed denial into his ear. It just didn't seem like it could be true. How could he die? Why didn't his healing abilities save him?  
  
Eventually, I didn't even have the energy to cry any more, so I just sat there until no more tears came and my voice silenced, even though I was still crying and screaming. Scott only sat there and rocked me, whispering comforting things, until I was forced to stop.  
  
He didn't even say anything as he picked me up from the ground and carried me back down the hall, away from the Med Lab, and I didn't even have the energy to fight him. I only let my head lay on his shoulder as we went silently up the elevator, avoiding everyone possible in the hallway as he took me up the stairs and began heading towards my room.  
  
But I grabbed his shirt collar and shook it, getting his attention. I shook my head slowly and he looked into my eyes, knowing what I wanted. Without a word, he altered his direction and turned to Logan's door, skillfully opening it without dropping me and carried me inside.  
  
He laid me down on the bed, taking off my shoes carefully and tucking me beneath the covers of Logan's cold, empty bed without touching my skin. Then he stood there for a minute before leaning over and kissing me on the top of the head, his lips coming in contact with my hair and not my skin.  
  
Then he headed for the door, pausing momentarily to look back at me. "…I'm sorry Rogue…" With that, he shut the door behind him, closing me into my sad cocoon. I couldn't scream anymore, I couldn't cry anymore, I couldn't even move anymore. So I just stared at the ceiling through water-glued eyelashes.  
  
And didn't want to believe.  
  
* * * * *  
  
I never really woke up, because I never really fell asleep. I only drifted in the darkness of the room, my mind wandering over loose thoughts about him, about the time we spent together, about how he use to look at me, and touch me. Those memories were so sweet I never wanted to forget them.  
  
I don't know the time at which I drifted, but when I tried to sit up from the bed, a sickness like no other washed over me. I felt the bile rising in my throat as I ripped the covers off of me, and slipped my feet over the side of the bed. Unfortunately, my body followed.  
  
I almost lost it right there on the floor, but I wasn't going to ruin Logan's room. So I did the worse possible thing, I swallowed it back down. I figured that that was what true sickness tasted like, all the guilt and pain and lamentation that couldn't come up as words, had come up as vomit.  
  
And suddenly my throat burned for something to wash it down.  
  
Raising myself on shaky arms and legs, I carefully picked myself up off the floor. My knees felt like rubber, my head pounded, and my throat felt like it was on fire. I tried not to move my tongue around any more than I had to, not wanting to waken the disgusting taste once again from the back of my throat.  
  
I quietly opened the door and was welcomed by a cold wisp of the hallway air. In a vain effort to keep myself warm, I pulled my arms up around my shoulders as I shuffled out of Logan's room.   
  
The hallway was empty, which meant that no one would bother me.  
  
"How's she doing?" Jean Grey's voice seeped from beneath the door and caught my ear, just as I was walking past their room. There was something in her voice, a sense of earnestness that made me stop and listen.  
  
"Rogue?" Scott asked absently back. I perked at the sound of my name, pressing my ear against the thick, mahogany door to get a better listen. "She's not taking it too well." His voice was weighted with remorse.  
  
"Poor child," Jean mentioned and suddenly she began to cry, not like a dam bursting, but a leaking cry that made her sniff constantly. There was a shuffle of noise which I pictured as Scott coming around the side of the bed and wrapping her in his arms, trying to comfort her.   
  
"It's just so hard to accept it Scott! I mean, how in the hell could this have happened?" I heard Jean cuss for the first time in my entire life here at Xavier's School.  
  
"I know baby," Scott tried to calm her, "I know."   
  
"I don't think I can go through with it tomorrow…" Jean said pathetically.  
  
"Then don't, Hank will be there, let him take care of it."  
  
"But the Professor needs my help, and I'm not so sure that I like Hank completely enough to allow him to do it."  
  
"Jean," Scott said directly, "It's your decision, you have to determine what to do." There were more sounds before Jean started crying again and then was muffled as Scott pulled her into his chest. "I know it's hard to decide, but you have to, tonight."   
  
There was a long silence, occasionally broken by Scott's hushings when Jean's voice got too loud, until finally, she was able to speak again.  
  
"I have to do it Scott," Jean said in a shaky voice. "For Logan's sake."  
  
"Are you sure?" Scott asked one final time.  
  
"I have to be. I have to know what killed him."   
  
"An autopsy is the only way."  
  
I backed away from the door, my hand in my mouth as I realized what they were talking about. Tomorrow they were going to cut him open, and to prove it to myself in a horrible truth, that he was truly dead. 


End file.
